


Behind Tinted Windows

by I_Dream_In_Electric_Blue



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Again it's not sexual, Anal Sex, Bruises, Cheating, Idk how many times I gotta say it, Infidelity, It's in a parking lot at Denny's, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pictures, Public Sex, Unrequited Love, Vomiting, tell me if I missed any
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-04 15:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12171645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Dream_In_Electric_Blue/pseuds/I_Dream_In_Electric_Blue
Summary: Patrick calls the man he should have married when the man he did marry leaves for work.He calls up Brendon to fuck in a Denny's parking lot.





	Behind Tinted Windows

**Author's Note:**

> This is kinda lame but I was reading a few of my favorite fics and it reminded me that I actually wrote this based off some of them was finished just sitting in my folders so I decided to go ahead and post it. It's honestly just scrapped from a long story I had that I will never finish.

He knew Mikey. They'd never met, but he knew him. He knows his full name, his birthday, what he likes and doesn't like. He knows everything about him, but Mikey doesn't know a thing about Patrick. The only thing they have in common that Patrick knows about is Pete. He turns on the lamp next to him so he can see the dark haired man laying beside him. The blanket only covering from the middle of his back down while his legs stuck out from under the fabric. His eyes scan over Pete's skin seeing those deep scratch marks. He takes notice of how long they are, how red they are, how fresh they are. It didn't bother him, not anymore. He knows he wasn't the one who left those marks, he and Pete hadn't been intimate in a while. He reaches out to touch them but pulls his hand away before he does, not wanting to wake up his husband. 

Patrick stands up and turns out the light before heading to the back porch. Pete's phone is in his hand and he's staring at the picture that he's seen plenty of times. Mikey smiling at the camera while Pete's arms are snaked around his waist. The older man is planting a kiss on his cheek. He knows where they are and he knows the photo isn't from before they were together. Pete's hair is the same length and the background is from their garden near the back porch, the garden he saw every single day, the garden that he and Pete planted together. He turns on the back porch light and looks out at the flowers that were just beginning to bloom again. They just sat there, covered in dew, mocking him. He can't look away from them though, he just can't stop staring at them. He wants to pull them all from the ground and throw them all away, but he doesn't. He just sits there. Once the clock hits six he gets up from his chair and goes upstairs putting the phone on a charger before laying back down next to Pete. The older man turns towards him, "Patrick?"

"Yeah, Pete?"

"Why are you up so early?"

"I had a bad dream," he says flatly, staring out into the darkness.

Then Pete's hands go around his waist and pull him so that he can feel his erection pressing against his backside. His mouth is right next to his ear, his hot breath on the side of his face before he feels him kiss his cheek, "it was just a dream. Why don't you just relax and try to go back to sleep?"

He moves a little, uncomfortable in his arms, but eventually stops when Pete groans against him and smiles. His tone is more suggestive now, "or we could do something else if you want. I know just what to do to put you right back to sleep."

Pete's hand goes down into his underwear causing him to suck in a breath. The way his hand moved between his thighs, wrapping around him and stroking him lazily the way he probably touched Mikey hundreds of times, it made him feel nauseous. The swipe of his thumb and the way Pete's cock presses hard against his ass make him move uncomfortably and he can actually start to feel the bile in his throat beginning to rise. He quickly gets up, goes into the bathroom, turns the light on, and pukes into the toilet. Pete sits up and can now see him from the door, "are you okay?"

He shakes his head and vomits again. Once he finally stopped he wipes his mouth and sits there. He wants to get in the shower and wash himself clean from Pete's touch, but he just sits there. He decides it's better not to shower because he has no clue how many times Mikey's been here. Has he used the shower? Has he been in their room? Has Pete had him on their bed? He begins to feel better and the erection that was beginning to happen was now gone. He turns back to the toilet and stays over it flushing before he breathes slow trying to focus more on the burning in his throat than the thoughts of Pete with someone else. Pete gets up and walks in sitting down beside him. He rubs his back slow and places gentle kisses on his neck before speaking, "I can stay home if you want me to."

He shakes his head, "no. No, you shouldn't miss work just because I'm sick. It's fine. I'm fine. I can take care of myself."

His arms go around his waist once more and it's all Patrick can do to not throw up again when he leans in against him, "are you sure, baby?"

_Baby._

He didn't know why the affectionate nickname put such a bad taste in his mouth. He just never really liked hearing Pete call him that, it always felt like the default name the man would go to with all his lovers. It never made Patrick feel special, it just made him feel like one of _them_. 

He nods anyway, "you should go to work."

He pauses and rubs his back a little more before he nods and gets in the shower. Patrick eventually stands and wipes his mouth before brushing his teeth. He can't look at the bed. He needs a new mattress. One that's new, one that's clean, one that doesn't feel so violated. One that doesn't make him think back to when his friend had told him this would happen. Pete is out pulling his clothes on and adjusting the collar of his shirt. He keeps looking at Patrick every few minutes checking on him, making sure he's okay. When Pete is ready he grabs his phone off the charger and kisses Patrick's forehead, "feel better, okay? I'll bring you some medicine and food during lunch."

He nods and Pete finally leaves. He watches his car disappear out of view from their bedroom window. Once he's gone Patrick grabs his own phone and dials the number he knows he has memorized by now. He leans against the wall and sinks down to the floor. It rings once and he's waiting, it rings again and he hopes the number hasn't changed, it rings once more and he starts to think maybe it has. He immediately hears a click before another ring comes and voice is on the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Brendon," he says, his voice almost cracking.

"Patrick," the voice says softly, "why are you up so early?"

"I couldn't sleep. What about you?"

"I couldn't sleep either."

"How have you been," he asks.

"I'm fine," he says pausing, "what about you? How are you?"

"I'm not fine," he says breaking down.

"Trick," he hears and he wipes at his eyes clutching the phone tighter holding back a sob, "why did you call me?"

"Because I miss you. All I ever do is miss you."

"You want to see me again," he says finally.

"Please? I really need you right now."

"The last time we saw each other you told me it was the last time I'd ever see you or hear from you."

"I lied," he says a breath of laughter following.

Brendon laughs back, "why do you want to see me?"

"You know why I want to see you."

"And what if I'm busy?"

"Are you? It's the morning, you've probably got work, I'm sorry," he says shaking his head, "this was stupid, I shouldn't have called you. I'm sorry."

There's a long pause and Patrick sits in the silence, his stomach feeling weird, and his body beginning to feel heavy, as if he couldn't move. He was probably seeing someone. Of course he's seeing someone, he's Brendon. Patrick didn't expect him to just never date anyone. He should have known he would finally settle down. The pause is long but when it's gone Brendon's voice is soft, "do you want me to pick you up or do you want to me to meet you somewhere?"

"I'll meet you."

"Do you want me to book a room at our usual place?"

"Actually, do you still have your old car?"

"Can't bring myself to get rid of it."

"Drive it today. Meet me where we spent Christmas eve."

"Yeah, I can do that. I'll be there in about forty-five minutes."

"I'll see you when I get there."

They hang up. 

He remembered that Christmas eve. The first time they'd seen each other since the wedding. It was a friendly meeting. Pete was working and wouldn't be home until the afternoon on Christmas day. So instead of sitting at home alone watching an old Christmas movie he found out Brendon was in town and called him. They had dinner in the restaurant beside the gas station where no one knew a thing about them. He'd gotten him a gift, a gesture he felt stupid about when the man sat across from him for the first time in three years. They talked and ate together, but when they went to leave they couldn't bring themselves to do it. Patrick has noticed the CD in Brendon's car and they got in to listen to it. But before they knew it they were in the backseat. They didn't care that the car was shaking or that the windows were fogging up, they were only focused on how good it felt to be together again.

But after they'd finished and began getting dressed he finally gave him the gift in his pocket. He took out the small box and held it out towards him. Brendon raised an eyebrow at it and Patrick could feel the red rushing to his cheeks as he began to explain himself. 

"Everyone deserves a gift for Christmas." 

He took it opening it to find a silver lighter engraved that read:

 **To Brendon Urie.** **Merry Christmas from Patrick.**

Brendon smiled and took a poorly wrapped gift from his coat in the floor and held it in front of him, "it's not much, but here." 

Patrick opened it, a picture of them smiling together. One of their friends had tried to take a picture of Brendon sitting alone, but Patrick couldn't resist. He was hugging him from the side as he pressed his face against Brendon's and smiled big for the picture. Brendon had one eye closed and a smile across his face when the picture snapped. He was surprised Brendon still had his. He'd lost his picture when they were teenagers. 

"I had it in my drawer, I just bought the frame." 

"Thank you."

"Merry Christmas," he smiled. 

When he snaps from his thoughts he thinks about how long it's been. Brendon hadn't seen him in a while and he didn't want to look like he'd just woken up. He wanted to look good for him. He decided he had to do it. He had to take a shower.

\----

They're in Brendon's car behind tinted windows just outside of a grungy looking Denny's. The sign isn't lit and the sunrise is beginning to show through the dark black film that hid them well. He's in Brendon's lap using his hand resting on Brendon's shoulders to move himself up and down while he tells him how much he likes it. The brunet's mouth and tongue on his neck leaving a sloppy spit trail up his throat when he kisses him. Patrick's doing all the work, taking him as deep as he can while Brendon's hands explore the body he hasn't touched in months.

"I missed this," Brendon tells him.

And Patrick's missed it too. He's missed the sweet words he'd whisper in his ear and the soft skin that felt incredible against his own. He's missed the warm fuzzy feeling in his stomach from him being so close and the familiar hands that had always touched him like they'd never get to again.

His eyes are barely open and Brendon is looking at him like he wants to have him for dinner. He pulls him in smushing their lips together. Patrick cups his cheeks and deepens the kiss. He's moaning when he tosses his head back, once he looks back at him he rides him faster, "mmm, fuck!"

"So good for me, baby."

_Baby._

For some reason when Brendon says it it doesn't make him feel like just another warm body. It feels good, it feels right.

Patrick goes to move up again but Brendon pulls him close, "let me."

He begins lifting him and moving his hips going back to kissing his neck. His moans are louder now, Brendon's mouth at his ear, "you like that?"

He nods and breathes out, "yeah."

Brendon moves a hand between them and takes a hold of Patrick's cock jerking him off slow. The blond pulls back and looks at him before he kisses him hard.

Patrick shouldn't be doing this, he knows he shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't be kissing him, letting him touch him, letting him fuck him. It's wrong, he knows it's wrong, but he can't help it. He misses it, he craves the contact that doesn't make him feel like just another plaything. He wants to feel wanted again, and Brendon makes him feel wanted. He makes him feel like the only other person in the world. He remembers going to him in the beginning, the way he was nervous at first, how scared he was to lose his virginity to someone who he knew wouldn't want to be with him. They'd had sex a few times, before and after he was with Pete. Before Pete he just wanted Brendon. The only thing he wanted from him was for him to say he loved him back, but of course he never did. Then Pete came along and said what he wanted to hear. Brendon had warned him it was stupid. He'd warned him Pete could never love anyone but himself and that all he would be to him was some toy he'd mess around with until he got bored.

That was the one of the last arguments they had before they stopped talking. Brendon had gotten upset that Pete had asked Patrick to marry him. But Patrick had told him that he didn't know what his answer would be. He told him he shouldn't marry him, that he was an asshole who only thought of Patrick as a warm body, that he was just someone Pete liked a little more than everyone else and decided that he was good enough to live with. He told him he should marry someone else. That's when Patrick suggested his first choice. Him. He told him they could get married, move to Los Angeles, and live on the beach. But Brendon just shook his head and told him he doesn't do relationships, that it would be a waste of time and that he didn't love him anyway. Patrick never cried when he found out Pete was still sleeping around, not once, but when Brendon said that he didn't love him it broke his heart. The fuzzy feeling and the butterflies in his chest had turned into a strong ache. That was when Patrick figured out what his answer was.

Pete didn't cheat on him after the wedding, not for the first few months anyway. At first he figured Pete just needed to get it all out of his system before settling down and committing to him, but after a couple of months he began sneaking away and working late and coming home smelling like different people. He'd come back to him covered in bruises and teeth marks that weren't his. He was upset, not because he was sleeping with people here and there but because Brendon was right. He'd always been right about him.

His body is hot and with a few more thrusts into him and hearing the man underneath him breathe out a few swears he's out of his head and back the present. His body gets cold and he's now aware of the sweat on his skin. He looks down at the man whose eyes are half-lidded and looking hungry. He leans down resting his forehead against his. Brendon's fingers go to his hair and grab it to pull him in for another kiss. Patrick's hands go to the man's chest and he's forcing himself to go faster. The long sigh Brendon breathes out lets him know he's doing a good job. His hand is out of his hair and he's relaxing against the seat, his hands behind his head. They aren't talking, the only sound in the car is Patrick moaning and the man's breathing. Brendon smiles at him and he smiles back.

And that was it for Patrick, that's what he came for, the man he should have been with was smiling at him and looking at him like he was the only other person in the world. He was looking at him like he wanted him, like he loved him.

He groans and throws his head back finishing while strong hands grab his hips and bring him back down again. Brendon kisses his neck when Patrick finishes. He's tight and hot around him and he doesn't stop moving. The way he keeps going makes his dick keep hitting his prostate, and it hurts but also feels sort of great. The sensation keeps shooting through his body, and Patrick is practically shaking when the man cums, his hands pulling him down hard. He leans against him and rests his head on Brendon's shoulder as the man groans. It takes them both a few minutes before they catch their breath. His thumbs move back and forth across Patrick's skin softly before a hand goes up and rubs his back until he comes down from the feeling. Once he's back he smiles. The warm chest was against him, Brendon's heartbeat was in his ears, and the way the man's arms were holding onto him, it all made him feel like he's where he belongs. It made him feel like he's finally home.

Patrick kissed Brendon's cheek gently and the man is quick to push him back. He shakes his head and nudges for Patrick to move. He's off his lap and next to him in an instant.

He shouldn't have done that, he knows he shouldn't have done that. Brendon didn't like soft kisses or hand holding or any cutesy stuff. He barely let people lay next to him when he finished. Patrick was usually an exception with that rule though. But he didn't do romantic stuff, he knew that. He'd touch him, kiss him, and hold him, but it was only when they fucked. Any other time he just didn't want it. Patrick knows why he wont hold him or kiss him. It was because he chose Pete. Because Pete could do that for him. He could love him emotionally and could show his affection in more ways than one, instead of Brendon who could only want him physically. It wasn't until he married Pete that he found out Brendon felt the same way he did.

Brendon pulls off the condom and tosses it out the window as he dresses himself. Once he has on his underwear and jeans he reaches in the floorboard and wipes his stomach off with his old shirt. Patrick watches him pull on a hoodie he hasn't seen him wear since high school. He gets out of the backseat and lights a cigarette leaving the door wide open. Patrick begins to get dressed, but his eyes never leave Brendon. The man takes a long drag and stares off towards the highway, and when Patrick is dressed he turns his head to look at him. He walks over to the taller man standing next to him, "thank you, I needed that."

"So, what did he do this time? A waiter? An art student? Barista? No, I've got it, stripper," he says before blowing out a breath of smoke, "yeah, Pete's always had a thing for strippers. He loves that flexibility. If only he knew how flexible you are when you're with me."

Brendon throws an arm around his waist and looks over him with a cocky grin.

He knows that tone, how he gets when he realizes he's given Patrick what he wants. He tries to make him feel bad for doing this, but it doesn't make him feel bad. Not even a little bit. He knows Pete's slept with countless people and hasn't loved him in a long time. And Brendon knows he's never really loved Pete. It's Brendon. It's always been Brendon for Patrick and that's what Brendon wants him to say. That's what Patrick wants to tell him too. But he doesn't. 

"He's fucking his assistant," he says instead.

"What happen there? You see a text? Find a pair of underwear in your bed that didn't belong to you?"

"He had a picture of him in our backyard on his phone, he comes home covered in bruises and scratches, maybe even a hickey or two. I thought marriage would change him, but it didn't. You can feel free to say it now," he says pushing his arm off him.

He raises an eyebrow in confusion, "say what?"

"That you were right, that I was wrong. You told me he wouldn't change and I didn't listen."

"You didn't want to hear it," he says taking another drag, "you knew. Deep down, you knew. But the part of you that loves him didn't want to believe it."

"I guess," he says leaning against the car, "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Dragging you away from whoever you're with just for a quick fuck in a Denny's parking lot. "

He turns to face him and smiled dropping the butt of the cigarette to the ground and stepping it out. He blows out the smoke and leans in resting his forehead against Patrick's, the smell of smoke fills the smaller man's nose. Patrick had gotten used to the smell on him, but he usually preferred one brand of cologne Brendon always wore when they'd meet up. He couldn't remember the name, but it smelled nice. It was a smell he couldn't get enough of. Brendon's lips connected with his for exactly three seconds, Patrick had counted. His kisses never lasted longer than three seconds. But then he pulls back, "don't be sorry. Fucking you in a Denny's parking lot has been the highlight of this month."

"I just meant that you should be with them and not me. You're dating them, I'm just some guy you used to fuck around with."

"I'm not seeing anyone. I don't date, don't want to risk hurting someone when you call me. Because you and I both know you always call, and we also know that I always give in to you. Besides, there's only one person's voice I'm okay with hearing at any time of day. I don't ever think I'll ever enjoy hearing someone's voice as much as I enjoy hearing yours."

He wraps his arms around Brendon's torso laying his head against his chest.

"What are y-"

"I miss you," Patrick tells him, fighting back tears and pretending not to feel the lump in his throat begin to form, "do you ever miss me?"

Brendon doesn't answer and it breaks his heart for a moment when he looks up to see him looking towards the road not paying any attention. His eyes were tired, and when he turns back to him he looks over Patrick's face brushing his hair to the way he usually wore it. He kisses his forehead, "more than you know."

It came out low but he heard him. He missed him. Patrick leans up kissing him softly. Brendon kisses him back for a few seconds, and by a few he meant three. But then he pulls from him and takes a step back, "um, you should get going. He's probably wondering where you are."

"He can handle me being gone for a few hours," he says taking a step forward and opening his arms to wrap around him again.

Brendon puts his hands down shaking his head before he takes a step back. He averted his eyes away from Patrick and moved to his car door opening it, "you really should get back to your husband."

Patrick notices how he says it and watches him get into his car. Brendon looked over at him and Patrick moved to his window, "I love you."

Brendon freezes not looking at him and Patrick moves to try and get him to look his way. He blinks back tears, "it's you, Brendon. I love you. I've always loved you."

"Then why did you marry him," he asks.

"Because you didn't love me," he says, "I told you that you were the one I wanted. I told you that I loved you and that I wanted to marry you."

He struggles to not let his tears fall down while he continues talking, "and you told me you didn't love me."

"What do you want from me, Patrick," he asks, still refusing to look at him.

"I want you to say it back. I want you to tell me that what you said when we were younger was a lie. I want you to tell me you miss me as much as I miss you. I want you to tell me that you love me."

He turns to look at him, "is that what you want?"

"I want a kiss," he breathes, "a real kiss that last longer than three seconds."

He turns away from him, "I don't do that stuff, Trick, you know that."

"Right," he says nodding.

He backed up and Brendon rolled the window up not looking at him. He could see the outline of him in the window gripping the wheel before hitting it with his palm. Patrick jumps and watches him get out of the car almost angry. He threw his arms around Patrick slightly picking him up so their lips were on the same level. He's kissing him harder and yet somehow sweeter than he'd ever kissed him before. The ache was gone and the butterflies were stronger than ever inside him. Ten seconds. He pulls back and Patrick looks up at him, his jaw slightly dropped, "I thought you didn't do that stuff."

He cups his face his thumb rubbing over his cheek softly when he looks into the blue eyes he'd never stopped thinking about.

"I lied."

Patrick hugs him tighter burying his head in his chest, the smell of the cologne filling his nose. They stay hugging for a few seconds. Brendon rubs Patrick's back before kissing the top of his head. When he lets go the tears begin to fill his eyes. Brendon finally gets back in his car driving off and leaving Patrick staring out at the way his car went. He gets in his car resting his head on the wheel. He stays like that for a minute crying until he can't cry anymore. Then he just sits there for thirty minutes not sure what to do. He wants to call him, tell him to come back, but he doesn't. He isn't sure he'd come back anyway. Driving away he doesn't want to go home, not yet. He wants to stay out and do something, anything, anything to keep him from thinking about how Brendon just kissed him and how he has a husband to go back to. He gets a slushie, something to get rid of the taste of Brendon on his tongue. The cherry red stained his mouth the whole drive home, but it still wasn't enough and couldn't get rid of the taste of him. He stops in front of the house and notices Pete's car in the driveway, he's home early. He wonders if he and Mikey did anything today, in the back of his mind he hoped Mikey was here in his bed, it would give him an excuse not to sleep next to him for the night and just leave this house, but he walks in and Pete greets him with a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek, "hey, baby, how are you feeling? I brought you some medicine and took a few days off work so I can take care of you and get you to feeling better."

He looks at the dark haired man, it amazed him how Pete could cheat with so many people behind his back but talk to him and look at him like he was the only person ever on his mind. Sometimes he truly believed that Pete never touched anyone else, that he only ever loved Patrick and he was just being paranoid. But he knew this wasn't true, there was evidence to prove it. He knew Pete was doing this, but then the man hits him with that smile and those soft kind eyes Patrick's used to seeing. They were so convincing that for the first few months of him cheating Patrick told himself that Pete loves him enough to eventually stop. Because why would Pete cheat on him if he looks at him like that? But he knows that look isn't true love, and he knows he wont stop. Because Patrick knows him and knows he's always got to have more. Even if he confronts him about Mikey he knows he'll lie. If there's one thing the brunet could do better than anything it was lie. He must've stayed quiet too long because Pete spoke again, his cool hand gently placed on his forehead, "Trick, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Okay, well dinner is ready now, I made lunch earlier too but you weren't here."

"I know, I'm sorry," he says, "how was work?"

Pete's shoulders tense a little at the question before pulling his hand away. If he didn't know about Mikey maybe he wouldn't have noticed. He instantly relaxes though and speaks, "it was good. So many documents that need looking over, so many people to talk to. It's tiring, but it's very good."

Pete smiled and turned away from him to get the bag of medicine he'd bought him. He sets it down in front of Patrick, "but I'm not going to be working for a few days. So we'll have so much time to spend with each other while you get better."

Patrick nodded and gave him the best fake smile he could manage.

"Oh, by the way, where did you go today?"

"I just needed to get out of the house, get a little fresh air, get a slushie," he says holding the cup up.

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Yeah," he says nodding before looking down at the slushie.

"Here, let's eat and watch TV."

He nods. His phone begins to buzz in his pocket and he reaches for it expecting one of their friends, but then he sees the name he thought would never appear on his screen.

_Brendon_

Patrick begins heading for the slide door when Pete cocks his head at him, "is everything okay? Who is it?"

"Everything's fine," he says finally looking up at him, "I just need to step outside for a minute to speak with work. They're probably wondering why I didn't call and tell them I wasn't coming."

He clicks answer and holds it up to his ear as he slides open the door to the back porch and steps out closing it, "hey."

"Hey," he hears, his voice softer than this morning.

"I can't remember the last time _you_ called _me_ ," he says sitting down in the chair.

He picks at the loose thread on his jeans chewing his lip nervously.

"Yeah, I know," he finally says.

It's silent again, the only sound Patrick can hear is the sound of his own heartbeat racing in his ears.

"Brendon?"

"Yeah," he asks almost immediately.

"Why did you call me?"

"Because I miss you," he admits, "all I ever do is miss you."

He can't help the smile that reaches his cheeks and before he knows it tears are stinging his eyes again.

"I miss you and I just called to ask if you were happy."

"Am I happy," he asks.

"With Pete, I mean, are you--does he make you happy?"

"No, you already know that."

"So is it too late?"

"Is what too late?"

"Is it too late for us?"

His heart stops and the first tear falls. He's stuck there, frozen and replaying the words in his mind to make sure he understood what Brendon was asking him. He pauses wondering if it was all a dream, if he was just imagining what he wanted. He did know one thing, if it was a dream he sure didn't want it to end.

"Patrick," Brendon says, the cracking in his voice snapping him out of it, "please say something."

"It's not too late," he whispers before trying to take slow breaths.

"What?"

"It's not too late for us."

There was a loud banging on the front door.

"Hold on," Patrick says.

He walks in and Pete stays watching TV eating. Patrick goes past him and opens the door seeing Brendon standing there, the phone up to his ear. He smiles lowering his hand, his eyes puffy and red from crying. 

"Brendon," he says lowering the phone from his ear and ending the call.

"I love you, Patrick Stump."

"You-"

He leans down kissing him. Ten seconds.

"Everything I said to you when we were younger was a lie. I love you, I always have and I know I always will."

"Patrick," Pete says from the couch, "what's going on? Who is it?"

He's not focused on him though, and his eyes stay on him. Brendon brushes the tears from his cheeks before holding his shoulders, "run away with me."

"Patrick," Pete says getting up.

"Run away with me," he says again, "and we'll go wherever you want."

"I thought you didn't want this. I thought you liked being by yourself."

"I'm tired of being by myself. I know what I want and that's to be wherever you are."

"Patrick," Pete says opening the door and seeing Brendon standing in front of them, "Brendon?"

His hands slowly slide down Patrick's arms before he lets go.

"I thought you were in New York," Pete says.

"I've been living here for a while," he says turning his attention to him, "but I think it's time I go somewhere else."

"Where are you going," Patrick asks.

"Wherever my heart tells me it wants to go," he says, "I just came here to say goodbye."

"When are you leaving," Pete asks.

"I'm leaving today."

"Los Angeles," Patrick tells him.

"What," he asks.

"That's where I want to go," he says.

"I know, so I'll ask again," he smiles holding up two plane tickets with Los Angeles written on it, "are you coming with me?"

Patrick smiles looking at the tickets before sliding the ring from his finger and tossing it behind him.

"Wait, what," Pete asks.

He hears him but it doesn't stop him from jumping into Brendon's arms and kissing him. Brendon wraps his legs around him and deepens the kiss.

"Patrick, what the fuck," Pete says. 

"I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be," he says ignoring the man behind him. 

"What the fuck is happening right now," Pete asks, "Patrick you can't just leave!"

He carries him towards the passenger side of the car putting him in before rushing to get in the driver's side, "you said you wanted a ring and a house on the beach." 

"As long as I'm with you I don't care about the rest." 

"I've got a house on the beach there already and I do plan to give you a ring. I just have one very important question." 

"What's that?" 

"Do you want to adopt a dog with me?"

"I would love to adopt a dog with you," he smiles.

Brendon starts the car, "I love you, Patrick Stump." 

"And I love you, Brendon Urie."

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about the ending, I know everything was kind of rushed, I just didn't want a sad ending because I hate writing sad endings. But I just wanted to post something. I know I haven't in a while and I'm really trying to find this other fic I wrote for this ship, but I can't find it. I'll post it if I do. But thanks for reading. Also if I made any mistakes tell me, I tend to do that.


End file.
